Infatuation: Book One of the Infatuation Series

Part Seventy-Three: This Is On You

Pierre's PoV:

At six thirty you stand in front of her hotel room; You bought her a big bouquet of roses - To be honest you don't know why you got her flowers, but it's something along the lines of "Sorry that your brother punched me and that it will cause more problems for you Babe".

You knock on the door; When she opens up, she just stares at your jaw. The nurse you saw after the incident placed some medical tape over your eyebrow to protect the wound, so it looks halfway decent, but your jaw is completely bruised... It's pretty clear something happened, and you would be a complete idiot if you tried to deny it, since it's so fucking obvious.

Her eyebrows tighten, as she softly runs her fingertips over the bruises - You quiver under her carefully placed touch.

y/n softly: Oh Baby-

Fuck, that sounds so good coming from her right now... Her eyes are full of emotion, as she guides you into her room.

Pierre sighs: Do you understand me now? Why I said not to look?

She nods in slow motion, barely holding your eye contact. By the way she reacted you know she didn't find out prematurely - If she would've known, she would've started interrogating you immediately, charged with heated anger, but no... Her hands are soft, as she navigates you to sit down on the corner of her bed. You lay down the roses.

y/n quietly: Are you okay?

Your heart is beating out of your chest right now. You're a piece of shit - Like an actual piece of fucking shit. You belong in hell; Provoking her frustrated, and disappointed brother wasn't the way to go. Charles knew that, Max knew that, and warned you, and you knew that you shouldn't, but you did, like a burning piece of crap would.

She sighs softly, as she finally looks at you again. Y/n pushes some hair out of your face.

Pierre quietly: I'm alright-

Why did you fucking do what you did? She's a fucking angel - Someone who deserves peace and happiness, and here you come along - The fucking stupid bastard that you are - Taking any chance of peace from her. You fucking made the situation even worse, although you knew how bad it was already - Although you fucking comforted her while she cried about her brother "hating" her.

Charles doesn't hate her. He cares too much, but she can't seemingly tell those two apart; Rage is rage either way... You knew that it would destroy her even more if something like this would happen, and yet... You allowed yourself to cause her more pain on the basis of pushing him, pumping your own ego and getting a little bit of satisfaction.

It's not so satisfying anymore - The anguish in her expression just killed you.

In her eyes you aren't the bad guy right now... He is. After all he hit you, right? But you fucking provoked the bastard, knowing damn well that he would throw a punch. FUCK FUCK FUCK.

FUCK

FUCK

FUCK

Y/n steps closer to you, inspecting the bloody bandaid on your eyebrow. She lifts it, and you do your best to not show any emotion.